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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647333">Dread, Then Succumb</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eos_of_the_Dawn/pseuds/Eos_of_the_Dawn'>Eos_of_the_Dawn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bio Organic Weapons | B.O.W.s, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Deaf Character, Death, Dehumanization, Explicit Language, Gen, Human Experimentation, Kidnapping, Medical Experimentation, Minor Character Death, Near Death Experiences, New virus, Psychological Torture, Self-Insert, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Umbrella Corporation, Zombies, the familiar characters don't show up until much later</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:53:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eos_of_the_Dawn/pseuds/Eos_of_the_Dawn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple job interview takes a turn for the absolute worse as Vee Crane finds herself at the mercy of the mysterious Abaddon Corporation. Will she survive?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dread, Then Succumb</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yes this is a self-insert fic in the year 2020. No, I do not care.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sitting in her parked car, she takes a steadying breath. <em>It’s just a job interview</em>, she reassured herself as she flexed her fingers gripping the steering wheel. With another deep breath, she grabbed the folder sitting on the passenger seat and got out of the car. The building in front of her was beige, bland, boring, and probably another gross word that started with “b” that she couldn’t think of at the moment. The sign above the glass door read <em>Abaddon Medical Services</em>, which had been sending fliers to the department of labor advertising entry-level jobs for $16 an hour. Which, of course, she had found out about because she was barely earning enough to get by at her current retail job.</p>
<p>She proceeded through the door and walked up to the front desk, noting the other twenty-somethings waiting in the chairs lining the side walls. Competition was to be expected with a listing like this. They were all just trying to scrape by and wanted better for themselves. </p>
<p>“Good afternoon,” she greeted the secretary sitting behind the desk.</p>
<p>The woman, seemingly in her late thirties, smiled politely. “Afternoon. Are you here for an interview?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I am.”</p>
<p>“Your name please?”</p>
<p>“Victoria Crane.” Inwardly, she winced a bit. She never much liked her first name. Always felt weird saying it. Even her mom barely ever called her by it, using her nickname Vee instead. </p>
<p>“Here we are,” The secretary said after typing and scrolling on her computer for a bit. She grabbed a clipboard attached some papers to it. “Just fill these out and we’ll call you up for the next group interview.”</p>
<p>Taking the clipboard, she found the nearest seat. <em>Group interview. Never a good sign for a supposed “permanent position.”</em> But still, it never hurt to apply places. So, she set to filling out the forms with info she had already put into the online application, something that always seemed to end up happening.</p>
<p>As she filled out the information, she would periodically shift uncomfortably in her seat. The blouse and bra she wore was irritating, but they were some of the only “feminine” dressy clothes she had. Maybe it was the way her curves were hugged a little too tightly for her liking, but she rarely felt comfortable in women’s clothes. She rubbed the closely shaved sides of her hair, brown with some bits of premature grey, out of nervous habit. Getting an undercut was probably her best decision in a long time.</p>
<p>When she finished the last page, she pulled her phone out to pass the time, much like everyone else that was waiting. After a few minutes, a man opened the door on the far side of the room.</p>
<p>“Everyone here for the 3 o’clock interview?” There was a series of nods and murmurs to the affirmative. “Great! Everyone follow me back to the interview room,” the man said in an annoyingly bright tone.</p>
<p>Vee did her best not to roll her eyes at the peppy man as she gathered her things and followed along after him with the others. The hallway was as incredibly unremarkable as the rest of the building had been so far, with the addition of a few framed motivational posters and cheap paintings of flowers along the walls. Their interviewer led them to a room on the right with an oval table and a watercooler. </p>
<p>“Alright, everyone have a seat and take a copy of the packet there. I’m Mark, and I’ll be your interviewer today,” he said gesturing widely with his arms.</p>
<p>The group did as instructed and passed out the papers. It was some basic information about the job, which was for a lab tech position. Their interviewer, Mark, sat at the head of the table.</p>
<p>“Ok,” he began. “We’re going to go over the required duties for this position while all your information is being processed. Afterwards, we’ll administer the drug screening. Everyone clear?”</p>
<p>The group nodded and Mark launched into an obviously well-practiced speech.</p>
<p>“Here at Abaddon Medical Services, we take pride in providing the highest quality…”</p>
<p>Vee adjusted her glasses as she tried to listen, but it all sounded like every other interview she’d endured. They all tried to come across as “not like other companies” when, in fact, they were all the same. The crucial information would only likely be provided to those who would actually be hired. A few of the other interviewees asked questions every now and then, which Mark answered gladly.</p>
<p>After what seemed like an eternity, they finally finished reviewing the packet.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s time to administer the drug test,” Mark announced just as a couple nurses walked in carrying trays with plastic cups and cotton swabs. “We’ll be doing a urine test, a cheek swab, as well as taking a small blood sample. Don’t worry,” he reassured. “It’s just a little prick on the finger.”</p>
<p>That last test seemed a bit odd to Vee. She’d done drug tests for jobs before, but none had ever taken a blood sample. Maybe it was some new kind of test the company still had in early trials. </p>
<p>The nurses donned their gloves and nodded to the watercooler. “Would recommend everyone take a drink so you’ll have an easier time providing a urine sample.” A cup was given to each person. </p>
<p>“You’ll go one at a time. We’ll take the cheek swabs and blood samples while you wait your turn,” the second nurse instructed.</p>
<p>Rising from her seat, Vee walked over and filled a paper cup with some water. She stood to the side, taking a sip as she waited for her turn. It had a bit of an odd taste to it. <em>Must be one of those fancy, overpriced mineral water brands</em>, she thought with a shrug. </p>
<p>One by one, everyone gave their samples. After the last person was finished, the nurses gathered everything onto their trays and headed to the door.</p>
<p>“Mark will be back in a little while to guide you through the next part of the process. You can all get to know one another in the meantime.”</p>
<p>With that they left the group to the awkward silence of strangers gathered in an unfamiliar place. Vee and several others shifted uncomfortably in their seats, no one quite sure how to break the ice. One guy that was scrolling through his phone finally piped up.</p>
<p>“Oh, it says here that tomorrow is gonna be the 22nd anniversary of the Raccoon City Incident.”</p>
<p>“For real?” another guy, seemingly the youngest there, asked. “Man, I wasn’t even alive back then.”</p>
<p>A tan woman opposite Vee jumped in. “I was too young to really remember, but my uncle Martin died in the incident.”</p>
<p>There was an offering of condolences from the gathering, which the young woman thanked them for. <em>Gods, was that really 22 years ago?</em> she thought. <em>Everyone old enough to remember knows exactly where they were when they heard about it.</em></p>
<p>She decided to speak up. “I was in, like, second grade, I think. We had come back from gym class and another teacher came in and started whispering. I remember they looked scared. Then they turned on the news and the anchors were freaking out about Raccoon City being locked down.” Vee shook her head gently. “It was wild. Parents grabbed their kids out of school because no one knew what was going on.”</p>
<p>Everyone nodded solemnly, a few more telling their own stories or their parents’ stories about the incident. It was odd, bonding over something so morbid as a city being infected with a zombie virus. Before then, zombies were just a cheesy horror movie monster. Suffice it to say, those kinds of movies became very unpopular for a while after what happened.</p>
<p>A younger girl at the far end of the table was in the middle of talking about her dad being deployed after the incident when she paused and blinked several times.</p>
<p>“You good?” the guy next to her asked with a concerned look.</p>
<p>She shook her head to get her bearings. “Yeah…I think I’m a little dizzy. Forgot to eat lunch.” </p>
<p>“Here, I’ll grab you some water,” he said with a smile. However, after a few steps he wobbled a bit and leaned over, gripping his knees. He chuckled a bit uncertainly.</p>
<p>“Guess I’m a bit lightheaded, too.”</p>
<p>He shook it off and filled a cup with some water. As he turned to walk back, the cup fell from his hand and he collapsed on the floor. </p>
<p>Several people gasped and the closest person ran to his side. </p>
<p>“Dude, are you ok?” they asked trying to shake him awake. “Someone go get one of the nurses!”</p>
<p>One of the girls nodded and ran to the door as the one who felt ill first suddenly slumped over.</p>
<p>“Shit!” Vee cursed under her breath as she got up to go help. As soon as she stood up though, she felt the blood drain from her head. She grabbed the table to steady herself as her vision faded for a few seconds.</p>
<p>There was the sound of the door handle being rattled.</p>
<p>“It’s fucking locked! What the fuck!” The woman began pounding her fists on the door. “Hey, somebody passed out! We need help!”</p>
<p>Something’s wrong. What’s going on? Her mind and heart were racing as she felt the strength leaving her legs. <em>Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.</em> This couldn’t have been coincidence. </p>
<p>Several of the group were banging on the door and shouting, their desperation growing with each passing second. A third person fell to their knees, then a fourth, and a fifth. They were dropping like flies and those still on their feet felt their panic renewed. Someone ran past her, grabbing a chair and slamming it against the small window. Nothing.</p>
<p>Vee finally lost what little strength was left and collapsed, feeling a dulled impact as her head hit the bottom of a chair. Every limb felt too heavy to lift, the sounds of horrified shouts and frantic blows to the only means of escape seeming far off and muffled. Despite trying her best to fight it, her body was shutting down. Unconsciousness then swallowed the last of her senses, including the deep clawing sense of fear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first thing to return to her was her sense of hearing. There were voices, though she couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Her thoughts were sluggish as she slowly came back to consciousness. Vee tried to recall what had happened. She vaguely remembered driving to her interview, but after that everything was fuzzy. Was I in an accident or something?</p>
<p>“Subject is beginning to respond. Anesthetics are wearing off as expected.” It was a man’s voice, unfamiliar and clinical. A doctor, maybe?</p>
<p>She felt her eyelid pried open and a light shone directly into her eye, the sudden change effectively blinding her. A groan escaped her throat at the discomfort. Her instinct was to try and pull away, but felt herself unable to move.</p>
<p>“Pupils contract in response to light.” It was the same voice again. The light was clicked off as she felt the man move away.</p>
<p>Vee tried to blink away the spots in her vision as her eyes began to adjust. She started to move her hand up to rub her eyes, but was stopped in her tracks by a restraint on her wrist. Her heart stopped dead in her chest. As a primal fear kicked her adrenaline into high gear, the memory of what happened flooded back to her. The interview. Everyone passing out.</p>
<p>Her eyes shot open and she began to struggle against the restraints on her wrists, as well as the ones she had now noticed bound her legs. Eyes darting around, searching for a way out, she saw several people in lab coats talking to one another. They turned to her, having become aware of the commotion she was making. </p>
<p>An older woman with short silver hair and a severe expression spoke up. “Please apply more restraints to the subject, Dr. Aldermann. The tests are about to begin and they’re obviously fully responsive. We can’t risk an accidental injury during the procedure.” The woman’s voice seemed cold with condescension ringing clear in her tone.</p>
<p>“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!? LET ME GO!” Vee screamed as loud as she could muster, voice cracking at the strain. She continued to struggle on what she realized was an operating table of some sort. <em>What are they gonna do, steal my fucking kidneys? Fuck, are they gonna operate without putting me under?</em></p>
<p>The man, who she assumed was this Aldermann guy, walked toward her with another man. Vee kept shouting at them, using a great many creative obscenities, however this didn’t seem to elicit any response. Aldermann gripped her shoulders and pushed down, the other man holding her face steady. He affixed a strap across her forehead and tightened it until she couldn’t move. Another was tightened across her chest and then a third across her thighs, completely immobilizing her.</p>
<p>Rage and abject terror consumed her. Tears of both frustration and panic stung her eyes, falling freely. There wasn’t any way out of this. There wasn’t anything she could do to escape. She was at the mercy of these psychos and whatever sick shit they had planned. Pleading to all the gods she could think of, she begged to survive this. Just to get out of this alive. Somehow.</p>
<p>Her captors busied themselves with setting up medical equipment and donning surgical masks. They put sensors on her chest and recorded things like her heartrate. Constantly, they referred to her as “the subject,” never acknowledging any of her reactions that weren’t medically related. She felt one of them disinfect the inside of her elbow and tap for her vein.</p>
<p>“Commencing injection of the A-virus, strain III.”</p>
<p>Vee then realized exactly how royally fucked she was. The only time people referred to a virus with just a letter in front of it was always one of those zombie viruses. She was pretty much guaranteed to die a horrible, gruesome death with her final moments full of suffering. She would’ve preferred they just killed her outright.</p>
<p>The needle pierced her skin and she felt the cool liquid enter her veins, a slight chill spreading up her arm. </p>
<p>“Virus administered at 09:23,” one of them said. A second needle was inserted afterward. “Saline drip has been applied as well. Vitals will be checked at each proceeding hour going forward to track development and symptoms.”</p>
<p>Packing up their equipment, the researchers all filed out of the room. Or at least that’s what Vee assumed since she was still strapped down, stuck staring up at the plain white ceiling. The door clicked shut; she was now trapped, waiting to die. Alone. Her only witness would be cold, uncaring eyes and the buzz of florescent lights. None of her friends or family would know what happened to her. An ache spread in her chest as she imagined how distraught her mother would be once she’d realized her daughter went missing.</p>
<p>New tears clouded her vision as she realized she couldn’t even remember what the last thing she had said to her sister was. Or to her best friend. Or to her roommate. And so, she cried. She cried and sobbed and wailed her despair to the empty room, which cruelly echoed back at her. There had been countless times in her life where she’d felt hopeless. She was no stranger to the crippling grip of depression. But this…this was an entirely new pit she had been cast into. </p>
<p>After crying for so long her body was no longer physically able to produce tears, Vee’s mind had regained enough clarity to realize that she felt unnaturally hot. She had even started to sweat, which was definitely weird because she rarely sweat even when she would exert herself. With a deep exhausted sigh, she recognized that the virus was already working itself through her system. All that was left to do now was wait.</p>
<p>Time seemed to move both at a snail’s pace and yet oddly fast since she had no clock, no reference to mark the passage of time. As the fever kicked into high gear, she began to drift in and out of consciousness. Every now and then, she would awake to see one of the researchers changing out the iv bag or taking notes. It was the times she was asleep, however, that were somehow even worse. She was plagued by nightmares, the fever twisting even her dreams. Visions of rotten flesh, of clotted black blood and grotesque reflections of herself. Each time she stirred from fitful sleep, she longed for her inevitable death to bring an end to it all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Softness and warmth surrounded her. The warmth was not the blaze of fever though. It was…almost comfortable. For a moment, she believed that death had finally taken her and that she had made it to some sort of afterlife. That was until she began to feel the ache of her joints and the weight of her own body. She was torn between the sorrow that she hadn’t been able to escape this hellhole, but carried a glint of hope at having survived what should have been a death sentence. </p>
<p>She stirred, feeling the sheet brush over her skin. Her eyes opened, trying to adjust to the light. That was the first odd thing she noticed. She’d had to wear glasses since the first grade, but she could easily make out the details of the concrete ceiling above her without having glasses at all.</p>
<p>
  <em>Y’know, I’d be more shocked by this, but I’ve kinda been kidnapped and made a human guinea pig so this is just whatever at this point.</em>
</p>
<p>As she sat upright, Vee groaned and stretched her stiff muscles. Out of habit, she went to rub her head and felt that all of her hair had been shaved off. <em>Classic evil experimentation procedure</em>, she thought with an eye roll. <em>At least they were nice enough to give me this cot bolted to the concrete floor and a sheet to cover myself.</em> She noticed a steel toilet against the wall in front of her. <em>And an actual toilet. How very kind of them.</em></p>
<p>The room she found herself in was quite small, maybe 8x10 feet. She looked to her right and saw the one wall that wasn’t concrete. What seemed to be thick plexiglass looked out onto a hallway and into an identical cell right across from hers. If she craned her neck, she could see many more of these cells. There was a clear door in the center of the wall with a small latch at the bottom through which a tray of food could be passed through.</p>
<p>Vee didn’t bother to fully get up. She wasn’t particularly in an exploratory mood. While it was true she had survived something which has a 90% death rate, she was certain that her troubles were far from over.</p>
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